


But You, You Kept The Runt, You Don’t Think He’s Scum

by Priestlyislove



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Island of Lost Dakotas, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Self-Esteem Issues, Separation Anxiety, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 08:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13430790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Priestlyislove/pseuds/Priestlyislove
Summary: Cavendish finds out.





	But You, You Kept The Runt, You Don’t Think He’s Scum

Their apartment was small. Some might call it cramped. But Dakota had never minded that. He liked the closeness. Cavendish was never more than ten steps away when they were in that apartment.

But today, Cavendish felt ten thousand steps away. He stood there looking like he had been burned. His posture was good, Dakota noted, but it was always good. Rigid, maybe. Cavendish was all angles and sharp points. He liked it that way. It was like he was covered in thorns that could prevent anyone from getting close enough to his heart to hurt it.

But his heart was hurting. And it was Dakota’s fault. Stupid, lazy, selfish Dakota, who couldn’t even save his life without messing it up somehow. Who couldn’t even keep a secret.

Cavendish knew about the island.

If there was any reason to be surprised, it would be that it took him even this long to figure it out. Cavendish was smart, and Dakota was worn down enough where he was slipping up. It had only been a matter of time. The whole thing, really, was just a cruel joke that time was playing on him. 

They were silent. The only sound permeating the room was the soft humming of the heater, protecting them from the bitter cold of the January evening they ended up in. Dakota would’ve made a crack about how this was a shitty way to start the new year, but he felt like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. His head might’ve been full of cotton, too, since he couldn’t think of anything. The only thought he could manage was _there goes Cavendish. After everything, there goes Cavendish._

Cavendish pushed his glasses a little further up the bridge of his nose. “How many times?” His voice was quiet. It did not carry the acidic edge he laced most of his words with. The venom protecting his heart was all dried up.

“You can’t possibly expect me to remember,” Dakota stared at the floor, speaking once he recalled the sound of his own voice. It still sounded a little off. Was he too raspy? Did the pain he kept hidden seep out too much?

When he was met with nothing, he stole a glance at his partner. Cavendish was staring him down. His expression was blank, his eyes were cold. The steady rise and fall of his chest was the only thing that differentiated him from the other Cavendishs. That, and that he could stand, and loom over Dakota, despite being at the other end of the room. As far from him as he could get.

Dakota swallowed. “Six hundred forty seven, as of this morning.” Of course he couldn’t forget. Of course the memories didn’t blur together. He relived every single time Cavendish died every single moment. Sometimes he could swear he could feel it when one of the Dakotas on the island would die. It felt like he had cut out a chunk of himself. Tore pieces out of his body to make room for Cavendish. But there wasn’t enough room. Dakota was too small and too broken. He wasn’t enough. He tried to turn his heart into a shelter, but he turned it into a wasteland instead.

The door opened behind Cavendish, letting in the frigid air. Dakota looked up. No one had the keys to their temporary workplace except for them. Someone walked in, and it was another Cavendish. The Cavendish Dakota had been talking to looked at him one last time before exiting out the door, and the new Cavendish took his place. He didn’t stay there long. The door creaked open again, and another Cavendish walked in.

Dakota stood there with his lips parted, too confused to even close his mouth. After twenty Cavendishs had replaced each other, he stopped one, “Wait, what are you doing?”

Cavendish smiled at Dakota, and that was enough to make his eyes well with tears. He never thought he’d get to see that smile again. Not after everything he had done, and certainly not directed at him. “I know you get separation anxiety. I don’t want you to be lonely.”

That Cavendish walked away before he could say anything else. Another replaced him, like clockwork. This one took in Dakota’s face, and stepped closer. “Please don’t cry, Dakota. It’s alright. You’re not the only one who’s been keeping secrets.” He glanced away, his face dusted with pink. “Just look at me. Not even brave enough to tell you how I feel. I was terrified I wouldn’t be enough.”

“And it looks like I was right,” The Cavendish coming through the door continued for his past self, who headed out. “Just one of me wouldn’t have been enough. You’ll need six hundred forty eight.”

Dakota laughed. He didn’t know what else he could do. His laughter melted into crying. Big fat tears ran down his face. His voice cracked, “You’re gonna get in trouble, Cav.” That was all he could manage to say. 

The current Cavendish-he must’ve been at least the fiftieth-laughed with him lightly. God, he sounded like an angel. “Please don’t get it mistaken, Dakota. Just because you’ve had better luck staying alive doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do anything for you.”

Dakota didn’t say anything after that. He just stood there sobbing as the Cavendishs each passed him by. Dakota didn’t understand why he was doing this. He wasn’t worth it. He was a mess of a partner who never did his job right. He had let his most beloved person in the world die over and over again. He wasn’t clever or strong or ambitious or anything Cavendish wanted him to be. He was just a waste of space. Cavendish should’ve abandoned him by now. Anyone else would’ve. 

“Hey now, it’s alright,” Cavendish walked over to him, leaning down and lifting his chin gently. His hand was cold from stepping outside so many times. This was the alpha Cavendish, he could tell, the one who was taking the time vehicle a few seconds back every few seconds so he could do away with another version of himself. It was over, then. This Cavendish would stay with him. “Chin up, dear, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Dakota gasped out. Where did he even begin? He had so much to say. He knew one day Cavendish would find out, but how could expect all this? All his rehearsed apologies vanished from his mind. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a lousy excuse for a partner.”

Cavendish hugged him and Dakota dissolved into another fit of tears. His body was just as bony and gangly up close as it was from afar, but Dakota never wanted those arms to let go of him. He pressed his face into his chest, as if that would make the rest of the world disappear. “The Dakota I know is a lot more confident than that. You haven’t done a single thing wrong. I’m sorry I didn’t see how much you were hurting sooner.” Cavendish’s fingers curled into his hair. “But I’m here now. And you won’t ever have to be alone again.”

“I couldn’t let you die-!” He cried out. He felt like an overwhelmed child. It was too much. Everything was just too much. He wanted it all to stop. The pain, the worry, the shock, the relief, it was all happening and he wasn’t ready for any of it. His hands clutched the back of Cavendish’s coat like a lifeline.

“And I’m alive,” Cavendish promised him soothingly. “You saved my life. It’s alright, it’s alright, let it all out.”

Dakota wailed against him, no longer trying to form sentences or even just words. Cavendish held him steadily the entire time, not so much as twitching. Cavendish was alive and his arms were safe and comforting and still as a rock but radiating life. There was no heaviness in Dakota’s chest. No dread hanging over him, no lies fumbling over his tongue. He was safe. He was safe. He was safe.

Once he had settled down, Cavendish walked him over to his desk, quietly suggesting he take a seat, and Dakota was still in that soft glowing place you went after you cried your heart out, so he obeyed simply. Cavendish walked away, and Dakota was too dazed to panic over the thought that he might be leaving for good. But he didn’t. He just walked to their mini fridge and came back over with a water bottle. He handed it to Dakota, who took it and sipped. It helped ground him.

“Nothing has to change between us, you know,” Cavendish spoke up. “We can stay the way we’ve always been.”

“Is that what you’d like?” Dakota looked up at him. He knew how Cavendish talked when he was trying to convince himself of something.

“Well, no, if I’m honest,” he chuckled, knowing he was caught. _No more secrets,_ his expression seemed to say. _I can’t risk Dakota hurting like that again_. “I’d like to be more than that.”

“More?” Dakota echoed, taking another drink from the water bottle.

Cavendish nodded. He was playing with his hands, squeezing and pulling his fingers and peeling off skin. It was a destructive nervous tick, but Dakota would rather hold fraying hands than no hands at all. “I’m, uh, I’m enthralled with you. In, um, a romantic sense, I suppose.”

“Don’t make me cry again,” Dakota smiled weakly at him.

Cavendish blinked. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think that-“

Dakota put a finger to Cavendish’s lips. “I love you too. But I can’t handle this conversation right now. I’m going to go drown my feelings in a cake, and then I’m going to bed. We can talk tomorrow.”

Cavendish glanced down at his finger, then up at him. “A-alright.” His face was pink again. He was so cute. And he was Dakota’s. No strings attached. And that felt so nice.

Dakota got up from his chair, and Cavendish watched him leave. He paused at the door. “I didn’t say I have to be alone. If you don’t come with, I’ll eat the whole cake by myself.”

“Oh, right, o-of course.” Cavendish scrambled after him, nearly tripping over his own feet. Dakota reached for his hand. Cavendish entwined his fingers between Dakota’s, and somehow, they seemed to fit perfectly, like they had been created to be put together, like puzzle pieces. Puzzle pieces that looked broken and misshapen on their own, but that’s because they just needed their other half.

They walked out into the cold hand in hand. Their fates were unknown, and the future was bound to be messy, but they were together. 


End file.
